She hears a shriek, and turns around to find the small girl writhing in his arms. "Daddy, stop tickling me!"
She doesn't know how he manages to tickle her while she dons her large, pink, fluffy winter coat, but he does.
He lets her down and the girl runs into her mother's waiting arms. "Mommy..." she whines, seeking pardon from the torturous play.
"Go swing with your grandpa," she tells her.
The girls face breaks out in the largest, most contagious smile she's ever seen, only accented by the rosiness of her cheeks in the harsh winter breeze.
She smiles and nods towards the swing set and the girl flies off towards the empty seat next to her grandfather, who has started ranting about the Newtonian laws of physics and rates of velocity to get to the perfect height.
Already his arms are around her waist and she feels warmer with him close. They watch while the other half of their small family giggles and sways back and forth on the playground nearby.
"I just realized how normal this is," he whispers next to her ear, and his arms around her tighten. "How normal we are."
"Oh, Peter, we could never be normal. But this...is certainly close," she says with a smile.
He nuzzles into her, pushing her scarf down slightly with his nose and placing kisses on the small area of her now exposed neck.
"Normal," he whispers, his breath warm against her skin.
